Lonely Colony
by MasterCrowe
Summary: Colonial America is lonely and tries to comfort himself sexually.


America collapsed, rather than sitting or lying, onto his bed, despite the disheveled and filthy state of his clothing and the caked boots which he had failed to discard at the door. It had been a good day's work, and he was proud, exhausted and content that all was well in the world. His own isolated piece of it, that is.

After a moment's fidgiting, during which the layer of filth which now covered his only blanket seemed to occur to him, he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to claim him, as it so quickly did after such a day of intense labor. The fields would be ready before winter this year. He wouldn't have to see his people starve as they rationed every morsel that England had managed to leave behind on his last trip.

England. The smile that graced his lips turned downward. It wasn't that he blamed England for his plight; far from it. He missed the man. Plain and simple. And how long had it been since he had seen France? In his springtime frenzy to prepare for a season all too soon off, he hadn't given a thought to them. Come to think of it, how long had it been since he had seen any of them? They used to come often, when he and Matthew, who was currently residing somewhere deep to the North, were young, wild and unclaimed. Spain and Prussia had been wild and unnerving, but a country was a country and Alfred felt a sudden panic attack as the reality of his position hit him. He was alone here, and the emptiness crushed his heart like a vise.

In an unconscious attempt to comfort himself, he had rolled during this time into a ball, hands pressed between his knees, and slipped one down the front of his trousers. At one time, this would have been enough to soothe him, along with the promise of new things to come the following day, but he allowed the lonliness to consume him and sleep would not come to ease his mind. His palm slid against his soft cock and he hissed at the contact.

Maybe he could distract himself then. He closed his eyes and allowed his fingers to play over the length in the confined area. The skin and muscle responded eagerly, hardening and langthening until he could wrap his hand around it and pretend, for just a moment, that things were different. Someone else was touching him so intimately. He searched for a name to fill the blank and smiled once again as he immediately thought of Arthur. He had no idea why. Perhaps because the man seemed to be able to fix anything and he was still fixated on the problem that had led to this. And he had the most adorable way of blushing which could affect him more than the smile of any girl.

After a while, Alfred released himself from the confining cotton prison and slid his fingers back and to the puckered, sensitive area around his anus. He was no virgin to masturbation, having discovered it quite some time before he had even hit the beginnings of the growth spurt which still affected him occasionally, and knew where the soft touches would lead him. Usually to memories of Prussia. The man was rough and domineering and Alfred played with the idea of pressing his fingers deeper, with the fantasy of Prussia bent over him, pressing his own erection deeper, deeper until he cried with the pain and begged him to pull out.

But that wasn't the mood he was in, and he frowned again as he thought about France. Sweet, strange Francis who seemed to believe that the world would twist to suit his will, despite the harsh realities that regularly presented themselves. He had kissed Alfred, though on the cheek and completely innocent of defiling intent. Alfred could remember the soft warmth of his lips and the hot breath that passed against the centered skin of his chubby cheek. He had been so young, but the memory of the parting was imbedded within him and he made the not-so-conscious decision to turn it to his needs now. He wanted those lips on his skin again; down his throat and sucking at the skin stretched across his shoulder blades and in a line down his sternum. Lower, lower he mouthed silently, despite the absence of company which had initiated this escape.

When he whimpered at the imaginary France's approach to his leaking member, he realized that his hand was not enough. He looked around the nearly empty room in a frantic search of ideas. This of course resulted in nothing, and he bit his lip, looking down at the engourged muscle, which twitched now and then of its own accord. He wanted so desperately... And here he was, alone. Alone, alone. The thought echoed in his mind until he gave in and realized that there was only one option short of slicing his fantasty off so near the end and leaving his cock to soften of its own accord or replacing it with one rather less appealing.

He stretched regularly, of course. You didn't last long under such intense effort without doing so properly at the start of each day, and the same effort in addition to the tiny rations he had taken over the long winter had stripped him of every last store of fat beneath his skin. So perhaps, if he was to spread his legs, like so...

He paused only a moment longer before plunging in, so to speak. Knees spread wide and heavy boots on either side, he bent this way and that before landing on the perfect position, leaning foreward in a sort of butterfly position, which placed the head of his penis within range of his lips. His tongue snaked out to lick the drop of precum which hovered at the slit and he shivered in delight before sucking the head between his teeth and into the welcoming heat generated by his tongue and mouth. He moaned and shivered again as the moan caused an immediate vibration in the organ which was slowly making its way fully into his mouth. It was difficult, but he was determined to finish this properly. He closed his eyes again and pretended that he had turned to take France's cock into his mouth even as he was swallowing his in return. He couldn't reach his nipples properly, which was a disappointment, but found that this could be easily forgotten when he stroked the skin beneath his testicles with the calloused tips of his fingers and ran them through the crest of his hair.

It was hard going, but he managed to lose himself again and surprised himself as he came, squirting jets of cum into his own maw and partly down his throat. With a final lick he released himself and unfurled in a panting sprawl across the bed. He tasted his mouthful for a moment before swallowing the slick mess and even as he did this, his eyelids had sunk closed and his breathing slowed until he was fully asleep.


End file.
